


war, peace, and parents

by JourEtNuit



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 00:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19860412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JourEtNuit/pseuds/JourEtNuit
Summary: Blake meets Raven first, and the woman is both nothing and everything like she expected.Or: Blake meets Yang's parents, one at a time, while the war rages on.Written for day 2 of Bumbleby Week - Meeting the parents





	war, peace, and parents

Blake meets Raven first, and the woman is both nothing and everything like she expected.

It happens in the frozen tundra acting as the unofficial border of the Atlas kingdom, in the middle of a fight that team RWBY is _loosing_. Qrow and the others are still at the Academy, protecting the relic, but the four of them followed a mysterious trail of evidence, which lead them out of the city - and right into an ambush.

So here they are, surrounded by Grimms, tired and wounded and desperate. Ruby has stopped talking, face drawn in concentration as she fires shot after shot. Weiss is out of Aura, blood dripping from a nasty cut on her left arm, thrusting her weapon in wide circular motions to keep the monsters at bay. And Blake and Yang are fighting back to back, both Aura-less as well, and exhausted, but determined to stand together till the end.

Suddenly, the air vibrates with an eerily low hum, and a red cloud forms as reality tears itself apart. A woman emerges from the void, her long sword drawn out, and cuts a giant Beowulf in half with one brutal strike. Blake freezes, shocked. Yang tenses behind her too. The woman doesn’t talk, just keeps carving a path through the Grimms, and the evil creatures, perhaps sensing a turn of the tide, _hesitate_.

It’s what saves the four of them. Jumping on the opportunity, they all attack at once, with renewed energy and sheer will power, until the Grimms have all been reduced to black dust on the snow, and the only sound in the tundra is their ragged breathing.

The woman sheathes her sword. Blake finally gets a clear look at her face, and she gasps, audibly, because she sees _Yang_. An older Yang, whose mouth has a bitter curve to it, whose eyes are burning red yet so very cold, whose posture screams confidence and loneliness.

“Mom,” Yang says, confirming Blake’s guess. Her voice is neutral, but Blake notices the way her human hand shakes ever so slightly, so she grabs it, instinctively, hoping to comfort her. Raven’s eyes follow the movement, fixed on their joined hands for a few seconds, before she cocks her head and smiles at Yang.

It’s not a sweet smile.

“You’re welcome,” she says. Yang bristles, immediately.

“Yeah, so nice of you to show up at the end of a fight, to take all the credit.”

Raven shakes her head, playing at the disappointed mother. “That’s the thanks I get for saving your life again, Yang?”

Blake tilts her head, intrigued. Raven is obviously mocking them, everything in her tone and words carefully crafted to appear both dismissive and critical, but… But there’s something else, buried under the pretense and affectation, something genuine, something that sounds like a _plea_.

“Thank you for your help, Raven,” Blake says on an impulse, politely, calmly, and oh, that gets her a reaction, both from Yang, who glances at her incredulously, and from Raven, whose jaw tightens like she’s expecting a fight.

Weiss takes a step forward, glaring at Raven. Ruby makes her way to Yang instead, one arm outstretched like she wants to reach for her sister but isn’t sure she should.

Raven ignores them both, eyes locked on Blake. “So, you’re the one who left her.”

It hits Blake in the chest like a punch, stealing her breath, even though she should have expected it.

“Don’t you dare talk to her like that!” Yang starts, hotly, and though Blake feels infinitely grateful for her loyalty, her protectiveness, she squeezes Yang’s hand, once. Yang understands at once the wordless request and stops talking.

“It’s okay,” Blake says, voice dangerously soft, looking Raven straight in the eye. “I came back.”

Raven’s eyes widen, and her mask of indifference crumble, destroyed by the unsaid, yet indisputable truth implied in Blake’s words. _I came back, you never did._

Silence falls on them all, heavy and stifling. Yang’s hand is shaking again, minuscule tremors in her fingers, but Blake is holding her tight, anchoring her to the ground.

And then Raven’s shoulders drop, her hands fall open at her sides, as if the fight just melted from her body altogether, and what’s left is a woman filled with regrets. “I’m here now,” she lets out, softly, not looking anyone in the eye.

“And we could use your help to make it back safely to Atlas,” Blake says as a peace offering. “So, will you stay?”

Raven raises her head, but this time she’s looking at Yang. She nods, and waits. After a few seconds, Yang nods back.

“If you even _think_ of betraying us again, I’ll end you,” Weiss says between gritted teeth, before gesturing with her hand. “Lead the way.”

Raven strides past them, and Weiss and Ruby follow suit, clumsily treading through the snow. Before they start walking as well, Blake turns to face Yang, worry bubbling in her stomach.

“Hey, are you okay? I hope I didn’t overstep…”

“Are you kidding me? That was amazing. You’re the first person I’ve seen who made her drop the act like that.” Yang brushes a strand of hair away from Blake’s face, tucks it underneath her winter hat. “Thank you,” she murmurs, so tenderly that Blake’s heart leaps out of her ribcage, pulling and tugging until she gives in and kisses Yang on the lips, right here in the middle of nowhere, feet deep in the snow and body sore from the fight.

***

Taiyang meets up with them in Vacuo, and Blake feels immense gratitude for his presence, because when she sees him, Yang smiles a real smile for the first time in days.

Since their terrible defeat in Atlas, none of them has been in the mood to smile. Salem took the relic, the winter maiden, and Maria’s life, and left them hopeless and crushed, fleeing in a stolen airship while Atlas crumbled and burned.

So they travel to Vacuo, to lick their wounds and live another day, and Taiyang is waiting for them on the aircraft field when their ship lands, blond hair bleached by the desert sun. Ruby and Yang run towards him, and he catches them both in his arms, hugging them tightly against his chest. Blake watches him drop a kiss on Ruby’s forehead, his hand curled around the nape of Yang’s neck. She looks away, waiting on the side. Weiss comes to stand near her, bumping shoulders together, while Jaune and his team unload the bags.

Blake and Weiss exchange a glance, and she knows they’re both thinking of their own family right now - of Winter, still in Atlas somewhere, of Whitley, evacuated to Mistral with Weiss’s mother, of Jacques Schnee’s body buried under the ruins of his mansion. She takes Weiss’s hand in her own, and feels Weiss gently squeezing her fingers in response.

Blake spares a thought for her parents, heart bursting with love and worry, and hopes they’re back in Menagerie, far away from the war. When they parted way in Haven, Ghira had told her they wanted to travel through Anima and Solitas, building the new Faunus movement one town at a time. Selfishly, she prays they weren’t able to do their trip. She just wants them safe.

Taiyang lets go of his daughters, so Blake and Weiss approach the trio. Before any of them can talk, he catches Blake by the shoulders, and smiles. “You must be Blake!”

His voice is much lower, a little gravelly, but something about it - the intonation maybe, or the warmth - reminds her of Yang so strongly she’s momentarily too stunned to reply. He doesn’t seem to mind, pulling her in a loose hug, and releasing her while she mumbles an awkward _Nice to meet you_.

While he turns to greet Weiss - who very firmly extends a hand - Yang comes up to Blake, hands thrown in the back pockets of her shorts.

“So…that was my dad. Sorry he’s kind of intense.”

Blake chuckles. “Don’t apologize. I’m glad he seems to like me.”

“Babe,” Yang says, looking at her intently, and Blake’s cheeks darken a little at the word, “I don’t see how anyone could not like you.”

Blake shakes her head but accepts the compliment, smiling despite herself. She hasn’t felt this light since before Atlas, and it’s nice, to joke around with Yang, to flirt casually, to just _breathe_.

The respite doesn’t last long. That night, she wakes up drenched in cold sweat, head filled with images of the battle, of the dead, pulse beating erratically in her throat. Yang is still asleep, sprawled on the thin mat next to Blake in the tent they share. She looks so peaceful, her face relaxed at last, that Blake can’t bring herself to wake her up, so she quietly exits the tent, hoping for some fresh air to calm her nerves.

It’s _freezing_ outside. They’re camping in the desert, on the outskirts of Shade Academy, and the cold surprises her. She’s used to the Menagerie nights, hot and humid, but this reminds her of nights in Atlas, despite the sand dunes surrounding them. She shivers, and heads towards the campfire.

Taiyang is there, by the fire, sitting on a wooden bench and standing guard. When he sees her, he waves, welcoming. She sits down in front of him, wishing she’d brought a sweater. There’s a big clay teapot hanging above the flames. Taiyang reaches for it, pours some tea in a banged up tin cup and offers it to her. “Can’t sleep?”

She nods, and cradles the cup in her freezing hands, grateful for the warmth.

“She’s loved you for a long time, you know.”

Blake jerks her head up to stare at him, so fast something twinges painfully in her neck. “I’m sorry?”

He chuckles, mouth twisting in an amused smile. “You should have seen the letters she sent me when you guys were in school. _My partner is so cool, Dad!_ ” he says, high-pitched voice obviously meant to mimic Yang’s as a teenager. “ _She’s really witty, and an amazing fighter, I think we’re gonna be great friends, I can’t wait for you to meet her!_ ”

Blake snorts. “I’ll have to read those letters someday, if only for the self-esteem boost.”

“Well, you’re welcome to our house in Patch anytime.” There’s a pause, a silence, and his face grows serious, contemplative. “You broke her heart when you left.”

Well, she kind of expected him to bring that up. “I know,” Blake says, staring at her cup. It hurts a little, still, to think about that time, how lost and afraid and guilty she felt. It’s like poking at an old fracture, and feeling the faint ache where the bone broke. She wonders if some wounds are too deep for the pain to ever fade away.

Taiyang is waiting for her to say more, she realizes, so she steels herself. “I am sorry,” she tells him, meeting his gaze steadily. But this isn’t what he wants from her, because he starts shaking his head.

“No, there’s no need for an apology, Blake.”

“Why not?” she asks, before she can stop herself. “I _did_ leave her behind.”

“Well, we’ve all made mistakes, haven’t we? Gods know I’ve made my fair share of them. You’re with her now, and that’s all she ever needed, I think. Someone who stayed.” He pauses again, looking like he’s struggling with words. “I’m not here to blame you, the only reason I’m bringing up the past is… I want to make sure you…” He rubs the back of his neck, sighs, looks up at Blake. “She’s loved you for a long time,” he repeats, simply.

Blake sips her tea, and thinks of a promise she made, months ago. “And I will love her for even longer,” she whispers.

Taiyang’s eyes soften. “She’s very lucky to have you, Blake.”

She smiles. “We’re lucky to have each other.”

***

Summer’s grave is a simple tombstone in a small clearing, at the top of a high cliff. Trees rise all around it, a curtain of deep green leaves, and the heady scent of wildflowers permeates the air. There are words on the white stone, but moss is slowly creeping up on them, and Blake can’t quite decipher the epitaph.

Yang inhales, shakily, and takes a few steps forward until she’s standing right in front of the grave. She’s limping, still, from a bad wound to her left knee. Blake doesn’t look much better - even her aura couldn’t take care of all the cuts and bruises she received in their final battle against Salem, but it doesn’t matter, now, the pain and the blood and the tears. The war is over. They won.

“She would be so proud of you,” Blake says, quietly. She’s standing a few feet behind, giving Yang some space.

Yang’s shoulders shake. She doesn’t say anything. A small blue bird flies low, and lands on the grass to Blake’s right - in the trees, the cicada sing. It’s a beautiful summer afternoon, sunny and peaceful. Stillness, after the chaos of war, is something they won’t ever take for granted.

“I used to come here a lot when I was a kid,” Yang says after a long silence. “Sometimes I took Ruby with me, but often I came alone. Dad was working a lot, Qrow was almost always away on missions, and I… I missed her. So I’d hike to the top of the cliff, sit on the grass, and talk to her.”

Blake thinks of a lonely, grieving girl in front of an empty grave. Her throat tightens painfully. She walks up to Yang, and brushes the back of Yang’s hand, softly, fingers gently following the knots and dips of her knuckles. Yang glances at her, with a small smile at the corner of her lips. “I still miss her.”

“I wish I could have known her,” Blake whispers. She leans against Yang’s side, tucks her head in the space between Yang’s shoulder and her neck. Yang’s arm comes around her waist, as natural as breathing, one hand holding Blake’s hip, and she rests her cheek on top of Blake’s hair.

“Me too. She would have loved you.”

“You think?” Blake asks, and is surprised to find how much this matters to her.

“Oh, absolutely. She was as nerdy as you, always with her nose in a book. You guys would have definitely driven me nuts.”

Blake snorts. “Oh, please. Like you don’t steal all my romance novels to read them at night when you think no one’s watching. Ruby told me she caught you _actually crying_ over the last chapter of _Ninjas of Love_.”

Yang huffs, fingers drumming against Blake’s hip. Blake can’t see her face, but she hears the smile in her voice when she grumbles: “Nobody knows the concept of privacy in this team.”

Blake laughs in her neck, and then they stand in silence for a bit, pressed so close together Blake can barely tell where her own body stops, where Yang’s skin begins.

Eventually, Yang presses soft lips on the top of Blake’s head, and nudges her hip. “We should go back. It’s getting late, and I promised Dad we would help him cook dinner.”

It’s true, but Blake looks at the white grave, and there’s something she wants to say, something she needs both Yang and Summer to hear. So she turns around to face Yang, and raises one hand, cupping her cheek, careful not to touch the barely-healed cut on her jaw. “You know, there’s another reason Summer and I would have gotten along well,” she murmurs.

Yang’s eyes are wide and earnest, glinting like gemstones in the afternoon sunlight. “What is it?”

“We both love you.”


End file.
